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Eddie was drawn into the kitchen by the enticing smell of warm baking wafting down the hall. He’d been trying to catch up on some sleep this afternoon, but had given up after tossing and turning for an hour – their broken sleep schedule was really messing with him.
That’s what Eddie was putting his insomnia down to, anyway. It was absolutely not because he’d been unable to stop thinking about Steve’s mouth so close to his a few nights ago.
Because everything was possible now. Steve was clearly interested in him to a certain extent, he’d practically told Eddie that, but it still wasn’t fully computing in Eddie’s brain because Steve Harrington? Interested in him? A few months ago, Eddie would’ve laughed hysterically at that fact.
He wasn’t laughing now.
Shoving the thought aside for later, Eddie stepped into the kitchen only to met with a sight that left him slack-jawed.
Steve was bent over the kitchen counter with a recipe book in front of him, propping himself up with his arms and frowning down at the book. There was an apron tied around his waist, one of those stupid “kiss the cook” ones that Robin had bought him as a gag gift a while back – and Eddie might just take him up on that offer.
Flour was dusted lightly across one of his cheeks, and Eddie itched to brush it off with his thumb.
“Hey Eddie.”
Robin’s voice cut through Eddie’s daze. He’d been so focused on Steve, he hadn’t even noticed her and Max sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hi,” Eddie pulled himself together, heading for the fridge. “Hey Red,” he smiled at Billy’s little sister. “You hanging out here till Billy’s done for the day?”
Max nodded, can of coke in hand.
“Cool.” Eddie took a slurp of orange juice straight from the bottle, ignoring Robin’s protests. “What’re you making?” he asked Steve, looking over the boy’s shoulder and shit if he just moved a little closer he’d be pressed up against Steve’s warm back.
Steve stood up straighter, effectively closing the distance between them. He turned his head slightly, catching Eddie’s eye and smiled soft and sweet.
Eddie went warm all over.
“Cookies,” Steve answered, then looked back at the book, “They should be ready soon, but I can’t work out the timing with this stupid oven, because I thought they would’ve been ready by now but they’re not.”
Eddie shrugged. “I’ll eat ‘em raw.”
Steve snorted and slapped him lightly on the cheek. “Some of us have standards, Eds.”
His hand was gone as quickly as it was there, but Eddie immediately missed it when it returned to the countertop.
“I’m gonna make another batch, since we’ve got enough ingredients,” Steve mused.
“Can I help?” Eddie asked.
“Have you forgotten about the time you helped with Chief’s birthday cake?” Robin said dryly.
“I think it turned out fine,” Eddie muttered.
Steve’s face lit up with amusement. “What happened?” he asked Robin.
“Well, the kitchen ended up looking a science experiment and it took us literal hours to clean up,” Robin recalled, “And Eddie used a baking pan that was way too small and the mixture rose and dripped all through the oven.”
Steve laughed, and Eddie supposed he was fine with being embarrassed if it made Steve smile that wide.
“And then…” Robin broke off, choking back a laugh before she could finish her story.
Eddie groaned, knowing what was coming. “Look, it wasn’t my fault, I tripped -”
“After we salvaged what we could of the cake, Eddie wanted to be the one to carry it through to Chief’s office because the whole thing was meant to be a surprise,” Robin continued, with difficulty. “And he tripped just as he reached Hopper’s desk and dropped the cake and it splattered all over his notebooks and his lap.”
Steve threw back his head and laughed even more, clutching the edge of the counter to keep himself upright. “What’d Chief do?” He was nearly in tears at this point.
“He was silent for a few seconds, he just stared at this mess all over his desk, and we all froze because we didn’t know what to do,” Robin explained, “And then Eddie -”
“…I panicked, ok?” Eddie cut in.
“…Eddie scooped up a bit of cake and put it back on the plate and tried to tell Hopper it was fine.”
“It was fine -”
“And Hopper just did that sigh that he always does, and asked us to never try and celebrate his birthday again.”
“He still ate the cake though,” Eddie grumbled, “Like, it wasn’t all bad.”
Steve patted him on the shoulder. “Well, you can help with the cookies, if you can just follow instructions.”
Eddie brightened. “I can do that.”
From her spot at the table, Max scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“Shut it, Red,” Eddie retorted, but he winked at her, no malice intended.
Eddie tried to do as Steve instructed, he really did, but he got bored of sifting flour and stirring in the eggs. Eventually he put the bowl aside and hopped up on the counter, the hard surface cold on his ass even through his jeans but he didn’t care – it gave him a good view of Steve as he bent over to pull the previous batch of cookies out of the oven.
Eddie dipped a finger in the cookie dough, licking off the contents before dipping his finger in again.
Steve slapped at his hand with the spoon but Eddie got away with his prize, looking down at the goopy mess on his index finger for a moment.
Once he got an idea in his head, it was almost impossible for him to ignore it.
Eddie reached out and smeared the batter across Steve’s cheek.
Steve froze for a moment, spoon still in hand, and for a second Eddie worried that he’d actually pissed him off this time, but then Steve grinned and shook the spoon in his direction, letting the dough fly off and stick to Eddie’s t shirt.
“Ok, I’m out,” Robin announced, grabbing Max’s sleeve and guiding her towards the door, “I’m not helping you clean up, just remember that,” she tossed over her shoulder as she quickly departed the room. Max snagged a cookie from the tray and darted after her.
Eddie scooped some of the mess off his t shirt and flung it right back at Steve, who laughed and flicked more from the bowl at Eddie.
Eddie grabbed for the spatula in the sink, still covered in batter, and slapped it down hard across Steve’s ass, leaving a soggy mess on his jeans.
“Hey!” Steve protested, “Ok, look, let’s call a truce, because Chief’ll be really mad if we make too much of a mess in here.”
For once, reason won out with Eddie. Maybe it was because Steve was blinking up at him, his eyes shining, batter still spread across one cheek. Eddie thought he’d probably do anything Steve asked in that moment.
“Scared, Stevie?” Eddie waggled his eyebrows, but he lowered the spatula back into the sink.
“No,” Steve huffed, “I just don’t like purposely pissing the guy off like you do.”
Eddie’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “I know. That’s why you’re his favourite.”
Uncertainty flickered briefly across Steve’s face and his gaze lowered. “I don’t think I am.”
Eddie frowned, stepping up into Steve’s space. “Why not?”
“I dunno, I…” Steve grabbed for the bowl again, fumbling for something to do. “I’m never anyone’s favourite,” he mumbled.
“Stevie -” Eddie started, because Jesus, someone had done a number on this boy and Eddie needed to fix it.
“It’s fine,” Steve cut in, “Sorry. Ignore me, it’s stupid,” he smiled shakily.
Eddie shook his head. “Not stupid,” he murmured, “And it isn’t true, either.” Eddie reached out, thumb finding Steve’s cheek, and he gently wiped the batter off his soft skin.
Steve looked at him, all wide brown eyes and freckles and tangled chestnut locks and Eddie needed.
“Stevie, I -”
The kitchen door swung open and Dmitri froze in the doorway, taking in the sight of Steve leaning up against the counter, Eddie only inches away, his palm still resting on Steve’s cheek. There was gooey mixture on their clothes, a little in Eddie’s hair, bowls littering the bench and now slightly-burnt cookies spread out next to the oven.
Dmitri silently backed out of the room and walked away.
Steve let out a nervous laugh and turned away from Eddie, closing the recipe book with a snap.
Eddie’s shoulders slumped – their moment was gone, yet again.
“So…” Steve looked around the room, “You gonna help me clean up?”